Not What I Intended
by Darkened-Angel18
Summary: Detective Silver Striton had it all: a beautiful girlfriend, a trustworthy best friend and a promising career in the homicide unit... only for it all to be taken from him over night. Now paired with Gold Hibiki, Silver must solve a heinous legion of crimes committed by an unidentifiable killer... but time is short and his number of friends are dwindling.


The procession is dark, dull and lifeless- much like the body resting in the coffin. People around me bow their heads and sob openly, a few even falling to their knees in near worship of the person reaching their final resting place. My eyes flicker to the small girl in black who is yet to move from her spot near the coffin. I want to say something but I can't find the words. She just stands there, eyes puffy and swollen from crying. Both hands rest on the coffin, the sparkling engagement ring on her finger serving as the only light in the grim. My heart constricts and a surge of anger fills me. She shouldn't be here- hell. NONE of us should be here. The man she'd desperately wanted for so long shouldn't have been snatched from her so quickly. She'd had him for a heartbeat and then he'd gone.

"This shouldn't have happened." A mutter from my right. I grunt and tear my eyes from the weeping widow as her own eyes meet mine. I can't handle the grieving, searching and overall hopeless cloud that has covered the once smiling eyes. She's too young to be a policeman's widow, barely old enough to have finished her first romance. The cloud doesn't belong in such innocent young eyes. "This isn't fair." The mutterer continues, speaking my thoughts aloud. "Of all the people… I never believed that she would have to deal with this."

"Life isn't fair," I finally interrupt; irritated by the obvious shit this guy is spouting. "Of course she doesn't deserve any of this. Who does?" A sigh in response before a hand rests on my shoulder. I flinch and recoil, temper flaring up as I turn to face a man I despise. "Don't touch me."

"Silver, when was the last time you rested?" He speaks carefully, too carefully for my liking. He may as well be talking to the widow instead of to me. The deliberate wording and the look in his eyes make me grit my teeth and move further away from him, further away from anyone. "Silver.."  
"Fuck off." I spit. "I don't want to hear this. What, he dies and you become Mr. Sympathetic, is that it?" A glint of anger breaks through the pity, sending a wave of old satisfaction flooding my veins.  
"You know that's not it at all." He replies stiffly.

"What, then? You gonna say he's just another statistic as well? Just another number on your chart? Just another body to be buried?" I'm grabbed then and smirk into the fuming, loathing face lurking inches above mine. "Just another name on a wall for you. As if you cared. As if you care about-"  
"Silver! Knock it off, okay? Today is hard enough without your… your insensitivity," a female voice interrupts, clearly upset by my actions. "Just stop it. Stop it, both of you." we glare at each other again and I lift my chin, daring him to make the move that would cost him his job and a lot of respect. It's childish provoking but at that moment I don't care. The anger inside of me is consuming. _Raging._ I need to get it out before I take it out on her.

Her. I falter slightly as Blue thrusts me from his chest, not even bothering to fix his rumpled dress shirt. I half watch as he storms through the crowd, ignoring the stares and murmurs that follow him. No one dares to even look in my direction, something I'm proud of. They had better of learned their places with me. Stay the hell out of my way and no one gets hurt. It's the way I've always been.  
Right?

"I don't want to hear it." I state flatly as I hear the intake of breath from beside me. "So save it, Kotone."  
"I wasn't going to say anything," she protests, clearly insulted.  
"Bullshit. You always have to have the first and final say…"

"Not here. We're at a damn funeral!" I smile at the spike in her temper and finally turn to face her. As always, I'm drawn in and soothed by her soft brown eyes. Chuckles are torn out of me at the indignation in those eyes, so misplaced. Those reactions belong to me, not her. She crosses her arms over her chest and juts her bottom lip out, resembling a toddler. As much as I hate kids, I can't help but laugh some more at the likeness. With each chuckle of mine, she begins to laugh as well.

"And your tough guy act isn't working. I told you, you can't learn anything from cheesy cop movies." I say with a sneer. She rolls her eyes and sighs.  
"But I was watching COPS..."  
"Oh, yeah. That's quality television right there."  
"I like it. You said you didn't mind it."  
"Yeah, I don't mind the facepalms per minute ratio, either." She glances up at me through her eyelashes and, inevitably, my heart begins to skip beats. I drop my gaze out of reflex and turn from her, only to feel the warm hand touch my wrist.

"Silver." The hushed tones of her voice and the touch send shivers down my spine. I look back at her to see the concerned woman side of her take over. The side of her that I can't help but… well… love.  
Love. Silver Rocket and love. It's a strange world when those two come together.  
"I'll fix this." She frowns as her fingers find my palm. I grit my teeth at the second wave of shock but continue to stare at her, finally speaking the words that I've needed to say. "I have to."  
"You can't do this alone…" she flinches as I frown, reflexively angry at the doubt in her words. "…you have to see that now, Silv. You saw what…." She pauses then, clearly struggling with what she has to say next. "You…"

"And that's why I have to do it." I say flatly. "Lyra, he took that shot for me. I can't just let his killer get away…"  
"He really was your best friend," she concludes softly, squeezing my hand. I sigh as the truth of her words hit me like a brick and the regret begins to arise. I can only nod and mutter an affirmation as the coffin is slowly lowered into the ground. Yellow begins to wail then, falling to her knees. She's sure as hell skinned them clean on the pavement but no one restrains her. They just watch her like one watches a dying animal- eyes filled with pity, not saying much. I catch Blue as he walks past the sorrowful news reporter who mouths, "I can't do this. I'm sorry" as he wipes tears away. The camera is shut off and hastily put away as Blue fixes them with a nasty glare before locking eyes with me.

Suddenly, I understand. Seeing the determination and pain in someone else's eyes… Lyra is right. I can't do this alone. Even with my team, I can't take down a madman. But two of us…  
…well, sometimes two is better than one, right, Gold?


End file.
